


A holy affair: The scandalous tale of Ser Cullen and Sister Maerwynne

by MaethorialBelle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaethorialBelle/pseuds/MaethorialBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ser Cullen has kept a close eye on the newly appointed Sister Maerwynne, and his attentions haven’t gone unnoticed. Will they satisfy each other’s longing or abide by the vows they have taken?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confess your sins that you may be healed

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly smut piece inspired by old erotica/romance stories. I hope you enjoy!!!

Cullen knelt, with his head hung, at the feet of Andraste. Or rather, at the stone representation of the martyred prophet housed at the back of the modest chapel. He knelt in prayer, alone like always, the chill that crept through from a crack in a window made the hair on his arms stand to attention. Fitting, Cullen thought, for the air to be this bitter in a room that felt so neglected, so abandoned; save for the spiders that made their homes here in webs they weaved between over turned candelabras. Still, its decrepit decor offered no less comfort to Cullen than if it the walls were adorned with age old portraits, or if the windows gleamed with flecks of multi coloured glass.

He heard hinges whining behind him, felt a new wave of frigid air gust over him before the door was closed with a subtle _click_. Cullen cracked an eye open in curiosity at the absence of shuffling feet or a mumbled _pardon me for interrupting_. Also, if he was honest with himself, to check that his heart was right to be bludgeoning its way through his chest at the thought of it being _her_. He was pleased to discover his heart knew best.

“Sister,” he nodded to the intruder as she glided wordlessly into place next to him. Her raven waves, bordering on curls, tumbled down her back until the hair gathered in swirls above the small of her back. She knelt graciously in a linen dress, an all too tight, too thin linen dress that widened at the collar to rest against freckled shoulders. Cullen couldn’t tell whether she welcomed the scandal that would cause. Her skin reminded him of the russet rum his father used to drink; the kind that had scorched Cullen’s throat on the way down after he’d stolen a sip one summerday eve. He imagined her skin scalding his lips the same way as he brushed them along the column of her throat; he imagined that she’d taste like the sun, which forever seemed only one step behind her.

“Ser Cullen, I’m pleased you’re here,” the sister admitted, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her sigh.

Cullen freed his hands from their clasp to let them fall idly to his side. “Is there something you need?” He asked with a drawn brow, his heart heavy at the thought of her already so burdened by her new life under oath.

The sister sighed again as she turned to him, the green in her hazel eyes brightened by the beam of light that speared across her brow. The ray revealed a dusting of freckles that speckled her cheeks and forehead; they reminded Cullen of a constellation, one only the privileged few were ever close enough to see, one he longed to spend his nights mapping with careful kisses. “I came to repent,” she seized a plump lip between her teeth, “I’ve been very, very wicked.”

“I doubt that sister Maerwynne,” Cullen countered, his scepticism crooking a blonde brow. “I’ve heard only good things about you since you arrived.”

She chuckled; it was one of the many sounds Culled yearned to draw from her again and again. “That’s because gossip mongers are unable to read my mind, thank the maker. The thing is Ser Cullen; my wicked thoughts have been doing things to me, to my body. Very vulgar things.” Sister Maerwynne’s lashes lowered as her eyes fell to the floor; her sunken shoulder’s straightening again with a shake of her head. “Perhaps I shouldn’t speak of this, I’d hate for you to think less of me.”

Cullen balked, his head bobbing back in bewilderment. “Why would I?”

The sister turned from him, “I’ve been thinking of a man” she confessed, “of the many things I long for him to do to me. She faced Cullen once more as his silence stretched out, awaiting his condemnation with bated breath.

“Perhaps a confession of your desires will ease your guilt,” The knight suggested.

Maerwynne sucked in a bracing breath. “I long to feel his skin on mine with nothing in between us, maker, I _need_ it. I need to feel his hands upon me, his lips pressed hard against mine.” She huffed amusedly, or more likely Cullen mused, in girlish embarrassment. “Sometimes I swear I can taste him, all honey and musk and the sweet rolls he devours, ten at a time. I imagine the way we’ll moan together as he kisses his way across my jaw and down my neck, lower and lower until he lavishes my breasts; I hear it feels so very good. My favourite thing to dream of is the hair at his jaw scratching against my inner thighs as he caresses his way up and up until, finally, he tastes me; he’ll tell me I taste of his favourite things before he eases my throbbing with eager flicks of his tongue.” Her thick brows lifted as she crept closer, her words a whisper. “What’s worse than these sinful thoughts is the way my body betrays me.”

“How-” Cullen croaked before clearing his throat into a fist. “How, exactly, does your body betray you sister.”

“Maker Ser Cullen, I get so wet. I long to be filled so desperately my very core aches.” She looked to the door, still shut tight, though judging by her lowered tone she truly believed even the walls had ears. “I tried using my fingers last night, it- helped. Though I know it’s nothing compared to how full _he’d_ make me feel. ”

“I see.”

“Are you ashamed of me?” The young woman asked as she bowed her head in shame.

“Not at all,” Cullen assured her. “In fact, I’ve been having some troubling thoughts of my own. I could tell you, if it would offer you some comfort?” Something tight in his chest loosened at her nod. “I’ve been thinking of a woman, a very particular woman. The most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I think about how hot she’d feel against me, about how passionately I’d kiss her after she came apart against my tongue so she can taste how sweet she is. I think about the way she’d cling to me as I held her tightly against the wall, the way her thighs would tighten against me as I buried myself deep inside her. I think of the way she’d struggle to speak as I ask her if I feel good; my name the only word she can manage to moan. ”

The sister draped her hair over one shoulder until it cascaded over her chest. “It appears we both need the maker’s light.”

Cullen chuckled at that, a poor distraction from his itching hands that longed to reach out to her. He swallowed down the temptation to instead to rub his palms across his muscular thighs, twinging in their longing to stand. “So it would seem.”

There was a pregnant pause; Cullen wondered whether she was whispering silent sweet-nothings to the Maker for transgressions that obviously weighed heavily upon her. Her eyes were closed and every breath seemed accounted for, the occasional twitch of her lips drawing Cullen’s scrutiny to the reddened flesh.

“Cullen?”

The commander flinched before he brought a hand up to stroke at his neck, his pride pained from the startled sting in chest caused by the murmur of his own name. “Yes sister?”

“When I have these thoughts, it’s you I think of.”

Sister Maerwynne’s confession sent a shock to his gut, a foolish thing, Cullen thought, considering he already knew it was him she desired. “And I you,” he admitted readily, “I can’t even recall how long I’ve pleasured myself to thoughts of you. Each time I wish it were your hands upon me.”

“I wish that to.” She was close enough that Cullen could see the dampened patch in the cleft on her collarbone from the dabbing of her favourite perfume, the trail led down to the forbidden valley between her breasts. “You know that we mustn’t Ser Cullen; my vows say that no man may lay his hands upon me.”

Cullen’s soft chortle made her lushes flatter. “I don’t need my hands to touch you, sister.”

She was close, so close. To him, to kissing him, to having him take her right there. “Where there’s a will there’s a way hmm?” she smirked before shaking her head vigorously and pulling away. “No Ser, we mustn’t,” Cullen hoped the surge of disappointment that sunk his gut didn’t show. “ _Not here_.”


	2. In my arms lies Eternity

The door to the uppermost chamber burst open with wild abandon, the sound of hurried steps up a stone stairwell following soon after. Sister Maerwynne’s palm sat pressed against her mouth in an attempt to catch the unruly laughter that escaped her. They had made it here by the skin of their teeth, since Mother Giselle had taken it upon herself to watch them both with an eagle eye, seemingly ever since Sister Maerwynne had arrived. Every secretive stolen glance, every “accidental” brush of their fingers as they passed in the halls raised the Mother’s suspicion a little more, despite their discreet conduct.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Maerwynne’s belly bubbled with excitement as her eyes fell on an over pillowed bed, more than big enough for two. “It seems we were expected” she joked, rounding on Ser Cullen when he’d gone too long without saying a word.

He was closer than she’d expected and wasted no time in draping his arms around her, his palms pressing lightly, a teasing touch, against her backside.

"You mustn’t" she giggled as she backed away from him, her fingers lingering on his chest as he followed in her footsteps. "You’re not allowed to touch me, remember?"

A smirk tugged at Cullen’s lips as Maerwynne pulled hers between her teeth, her eyes never leaving his even as she bumped into the wall behind her. “I remember” he purred, voice low and laced with desire, “but what is it you said sister?” Cullen captured her by the wrists to pin her arms firmly above her head, "where there's a will, there's a way.” He lowered his head as if he meant to steal a kiss, only to leave his lover wanting as he paused a hairs breadth away.

“I’m sure mother Giselle would count this as touching” Maerwynne mumbled, her breath catching as Cullen held her wrists tighter. He was certain her bright eyes were swallowed by darkness under her lowered lashes, though he couldn’t tell for certain as her fallen gaze gorged greedily on his lips as he wetted them with a dart of his tongue.

The knight chuckled as he pressed himself, and his erection, harder against her; his warm breath teasing her ear as he whispered, “what mother Giselle doesn’t know can’t hurt her.” He nipped at the sister’s neck as she let out a pleading, hushed groan of his name. “Would you rather we didn’t?” He asked against her searing skin before he placed a tongue-teased kiss there.

“No!” she cried, her eyes desperately seeking his. “I want you. Maker, I _want_ you.” Sister Maerwynne’s breaths were coming faster now, her chest heavy and heaving as it pushed against his. “I suppose this doesn’t count as touching, not _really_. We’re not even holding hands,” her fingers tapped against the wall as she wiggled them for good measure.

“You may have a point” Cullen chuckled, his smile proving contagious, as his lover’s cheeks dimpled with her own smirk.

His hands twitched against her captured wrists as he fought the urge to run his hands across her cheek, over every dip and curve that made up the plains of her body. _I don’t need my hands to touch you_ , his own words ran through his mind. With one last look at her, Cullen dipped his head to capture a nipple through the cloth of her dress, only to curse at the too tight material that wouldn’t give under his ministrations. He dropped to his knees, his firm grip causing her arms to drag down to her sides as his hot breath ghosted over her sex. He placed a kiss against her heat, so warm even through the fabric, before looking to her. He wanted to see every gasp, every shudder, while he still could, before he became too tangled in the chase of their pleasure to notice. Cullen kissed her again, then once more, before he bit softly at her thigh; a sign that she should spread her legs for him, a sign that she eagerly acted on.

He freed her from his grasp as he rose to his feet. “Strip for me” he said, Maerwynne couldn’t tell whether it was a command or a question, either way, she would happily oblige him. She stepped out of her boots, then peeled the dress down her body as quickly as the fitted material would allow, each new inch off revealed flesh at her chest being blessed by a kiss, a nip or a flick of Cullen’s tongue. “May I taste you sister?” he asked against her shoulder, his hand hovering between her thighs.

Maerwynne nodded her consent, seeing as her words seemed to have been stolen by the knight’s brazen request, by the look that burned in his amber eyes for her.

Cullen fell to his knees once more, the very picture of a starving man at a feast, of a thirsting man showered by rain, a pious man eager to please his god in this life and the next. And she, the lucky recipient of too many weeks spent denying himself, felt far, far luckier than she had any right to. Especially as she knew the Maker wouldn’t look kindly on her for this, though she certainly felt blessed, especially as Cullen parted her folds with a long stroke of his tongue. The sister was slick and silken to the touch, hotter than he’d imagined and not nearly as sweet, still better though than anything his mind had conjured during stolen moments and lonely nights. He groaned, rough and raw, as she whimpered his name; her mewling’s reminding his hand, the one not braced against the wall, that it was needed elsewhere. He began to unlace his breeches with a hurried hand, not failing to keep his tongue curled inside of the sister as he tugged at his laces. He began to relieve his own aching pressure with languid pumps of his cock, the thick pre cum that beaded over his calloused fingers only adding more bliss to his smooth strokes.

Cullen flicked his eyes up to Maerwynne as her hands tangled in his crown of blonde curls, pulling him deeper into her core. He wanted to admonish her, to remind her not to touch, then remembered those vows weren’t his; his vows never stated that she couldn’t pull his face deeper into her slit, or leave scratch marks across his back that’d leave the other knights curious, envious even. Cullen hummed against her at the thought and was rewarded with a buck of her hips.

“Cu- Ser Cullen, I’m- _please…_ ”

“Call me Cullen, sister,” he rumbled against her, “I want to hear you say my name.”

“ _Cullen_ ” she echoed breathily, a small smile tugging at her lips as though some great burden had been relieved. She lifted a hand to squeeze at her breast, the climbing pressure in the pit of her stomach steadily reaching its peak. “Call me-,” she gasped, “call me Maer- Maer-.” Her head fell back against the wall as a lengthy groan ripped from her throat. “Maker, call me whatever you want just don’t stop, _please_ ” she pleaded through gritted teeth.

Cullen wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t stop until she shook against him, until she held her mouth open in a wordless cry and felt her legs turn to liquid. Instead he doubled his efforts, relishing in the trembles that rocked her against him as he swirled gentle licks across her hardened clit.

Her orgasm hit her hard. Cullen couldn’t help but pump his shaft relentlessly as every moan, every guttural groan of his name sent shocks straight to his loins. He kissed her once last time, a parting gift, earning himself a squealing giggle in the process. Her laughter turned to gentle gasps as he roamed his way up her body, stopping momentarily to ravish her breasts with earnest attention. He dragged his mouth away reluctantly, caressing his way to her mouth with biting kisses. Cullen could tell as they parted the moment that she tasted herself; judging by the slight drooping of her brow the jury seemed to be out on whether she liked it or not. Cullen certainly did, and if he had to spend the rest of his days going down on her until she was sure, so be it.

“Are you alright?” he asked eventually, in spite of her lazy smile.

“I’ll say” she drawled, her scarred fingers teasing his now neglected length.

Cullen’s eyes fluttered to a close. “Maerwynne” he hissed, either as a warning or from the pleasure of it, neither was sure.

“Please Cullen” she cooed, her plump lips forming into an adolescent pout.

The knight lifted a hand to paw at his neck. “You mustn’t” he protested weakly, echoing her own sentiment from before.

“I don’t care about my vows” she snapped, her fleeting frown melting swiftly into a wicked grin. “The Maker has yet to smite us.”

Cullen nodded his head at her after little hesitation, feeling guilty for _not_ feeling guilty about his hunger to be inside her. “Alright” he conceded, “but I-” Maerwynne didn’t wait for him to finish before she bounded off to bend herself over a parchment littered desk, though not for long, as she scattered the clutter with wide sweeping arms.

Cullen removed his own clothing before he followed, adding them as swiftly as he could to the pile of discarded garments already littering the floor. Maerwynne turned to him as he approached, her eyes hungrily feasting on his hardened abs, partly partitioned by a golden trail that guided her eyes down towards the dusting of hair crowning his heavy cock. His own eyes drifted to her soaked centre, a pang of pride quirking his lip, and the scar adorning it, at the thought of it being him that had made her so aroused. Cullen kissed his way up her back before placing his hands either side of her stooped shoulders.

“Do you want this?” he asked against her ear, grinning as she pushed herself against him. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes Cullen” she cooed, a smile lilting her voice, both charmed and turned on by his constant need of consent. “You know how long I’ve wanted you inside me; I want you more than anything.”

He pressed his erection into her entrance eagerly, his hips halting momentarily as the tip became smothered by her soft warmth. “ _Make_ r” he groaned as he took her slowly, relishing each new inch of throbbing flesh that slipped inside her and the way it made her moan and beg for more. Cullen paused when his thick shaft was buried to the hilt; he told himself it was her that needed to adjust to the feel of him filling her, no doubt she did, though the sister wasn’t the only one. After too many heartbeats had passed between them Maerwynne rocked back against him in frustration, making Cullen chuckle as he started to thrust. He set a steady pace; just hard enough to send various trinkets rolling off the edge of the surface.

Cullen braced his brow between her shoulder blades, their sweat mingling and scorching skin making the other feel like they’d been kissed by the sun. “Tell me what you want” he grunted, “tell me how you like it.”

“Harder, please _,_ ” the sister whined, “I want you to make me come Cullen. I want to feel you come inside me.”

 _Maker_ , the knight groaned, _what was she trying to do to him?_ He hardened his thrusts, tried to make them quicker without losing the force she desired. Her moans came quicker now, louder and longer too. The desk moaned along with them, creaking and rocking with every rough snap of his hips. The sound of their smacking flesh was a sin all of its own, the wet sound of him fucking her wicked enough that there wasn’t enough prayers in all Thedas to save them. Ser Cullen knew he wouldn’t last much longer; the fuse had been lit and now all that was left was to make sure that she shattered first.

“Are you close?” he rasped against her skin, salty and hot on his tongue.

The sister didn’t answer, at least not with words. Instead, she stopped bucking madly against him, her grip on the edge of the desk making her back go rigid. She tightened so suddenly around him that Cullen's shout almost outshone hers, though she had plenty more that she spilt into her palm, a mixture of screams and gasps and blissful cries of his name. She laid lazily across the desk as she came down, the roll of her hips tired and shallow despite her best efforts. _Vows be damned_ Cullen cursed to himself before grabbing her hips and pulling her snugly against him, his chaotic thrusts warping her giddy giggles, from his new found rebellious nature, into primal growls. With a grunt of her name through gritted teeth, Cullen came just as hard as she had, the veins in his neck straining against his taut skin as he threw his head back, moaning as Maerwynne milked him for every last drop.

He collapsed on top of her, baring his weight as best he could. “I love you” he panted, punctuating his admission with a kiss to her shoulder. The woman beneath him spoke his name in a quiet grumble, then pushed against him so that she could stare him down him with a cocked brow.

Cullen felt dazed, and definitely like he shouldn’t be standing. “What is it?” he asked, still breathless and weak kneed.

“Ser Cullen would never tell sister Maerwynne he loves her. Well, not yet anyway,” Maerwynne chided him.

The commander lifted a damp clump of dishevelled hair, mostly curls that clung to her forehead, out of her face _. “Ser_ Cullen wasn’t telling _sister_ Maerwynne. I was telling you.”

That seemed to placate her, judging by the way the inquisitor’s arms enveloped his shoulders, her fingers linking behind his neck. “So, did you enjoy it?”

Cullen pulled her closer by her bare ass, capturing her mouth in a fiery kiss before he answered. “I- yes. Though I’m not sure how I feel about doing it again. I want to make love to _you_.”

Maerwynne hummed in thought. “How about if we try different characters. Maybe the savage avvar chieftain and the helpless lost lowlander?”

The lines around Cullen’s eyes deepened in his amusement. “I’m not sure I have the skill to pass as an avvar chieftain.”

“You?” Maerwynne scoffed, “I was talking about me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you weren't too disappointed that they were just roleplaying!!! Comments and Kudos are always welcome if you feel like it <3


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